Craving The Player (Amateurs In Love Book 1)(34)

When we’re together I fuck for her, not me. I want to fuck her to the point that my name will be the only one that ever leaves her lips again. Not because she’ll miss me, but because she won’t be able to think about another cock stretching her hot cunt the way mine has.

Every time she’s kissed, I want her to think about how right my dick feels in her mouth and down her throat.

When a stranger brushes a hair out of her face I want her to remember the burn of me wrapping it around my fist and yanking her close while devouring her throat like a starved animal.

The thoughts won’t leave my head. Won’t give me any reprieve. They just keep knocking around in my skull, torturing me until I give them what they want. But I won’t give them what they want. I know I won’t. Sierra is not mine. I seem to have forgotten that she is just a fuck buddy and can be replaced without a second thought.

As if needing to prove a point to myself, I grip my shaft and thrust completely inside of her, keeping my eyes locked on her tits as they jolt from the sudden movement. She gasps, hands searching my body for something to grab and steady herself with but I don’t wait. I pull out almost completely before plunging back in.

Again and again.

She feels hot, tight, and like something I could become addicted to if I let myself fall down that hole. My thrusts are savage, unrelenting. There’s nothing personal about the way I fuck her. Like she’s nothing more than a willing body. The nostalgia of it washes over me and has my molars grinding.

“Braden!” she cries when my thumb slides across her clit. She fists my hair in an attempt to grab my attention but I refuse to give it to her.

Don’t look at her. Fuck her like a stranger.

She claws at me harder, more impatiently with every slap of skin. So I grab her thigh to move it around my hip and slide even further inside that tight vice, hitting the spot that has her seeing stars in hopes that the increase of pleasure will distract her. It doesn’t. Fuck me it only makes my resolve flounder.

Her pussy quivers around me and I know she’s about to come. The pressure at the base of my spine says that I won't be far behind her. Throwing her other leg over my hip, I fuck her harder. My balls slap her ass and sweat beads between my brows and on my chest.

“I need you to come for me, Sierra. I need you to coat this cock in your cum,” I groan through clenched teeth, fighting to keep from taking her mouth and stealing her moans as they barrel into me.

“Look at me,” she growls, reaching towards me and scratching at my chest. “I’m not just some faceless fuck.”

I almost freeze when she calls me out, completely aware of exactly what I’ve been doing. But I ignore her. Grinding my teeth some more, I sweep up some of her wetness and use it to rub circles around her swollen clit. It’s a jackass thing to do—using her own body against her—but I don’t let myself feel guilty for it when she tightens up like a spring and her walls clamp down around me, pulsing as I come right along with her.

“Fuck. Yes.” My thrusts become messy, muscles tighten and my vision becomes black around the edges as she milks every last drop of cum from me. A smug smile threatens to pull at my mouth before I swallow hard and blink twice, settling back down on earth.

Neither of us say anything as I pull out and get off the bed. My thighs burn and my muscles stay tense, pissing me the fuck off. With a tick in my jaw I pull my damp clothes back on, keeping my back to her. It isn’t until I pull out my phone to check the time that she speaks up.

“You’re a real piece of work. You know that, right?”

Her words strike a nerve and my hands form fists at my sides. I have to focus on keeping my composure and not turning around to look at her. I’m not sure what I would find if I did. She doesn’t sound hurt or offended. Just angry and frustrated. But I don't risk it, even when continuing to ignore her has my stomach churning.

I know that she is right. I know that she didn’t deserve to be fucked like that—like she didn’t matter. But I did it anyway. And she can hate me all she wants but I know it was the right thing to do, regardless of how brutally cruel it was.

“Oh, and you’re lucky I’m on birth control, dickbag,” she adds, each word laced with venom. I feel the colour drain from my face and my shoulders instantly sag with guilt.

I’ve never once had sex without a condom. I’m sure there are quite a few in my wallet right now, too. I just didn’t fucking think about it in the moment. I’m such a total prick. Fuck.

I clear my throat and grip my phone so tight I fear it’ll snap in half. “Good. That’s good.”

She scoffs before I hear her get off the bed and the ensuite door slam shut, the lock clicking soon after.

Taking her storming off as exactly what it is—a dismissal—I run a hand through my hair and yank until my scalp burns. The shower starts and I shove my phone in my pocket before leaving her house with a giant ball of regret in my stomach.





Chapter Fifteen





Sierra





Running sweaty palms down my leather skirt, I try to convince myself that saying yes to this family dinner isn’t going to come back to bite me in the ass. I’m nearly one-hundred percent positive that it will, but I refuse to leave my apartment wired with nerves and nausea.

It’s just my parents. How bad could it really be? I nearly snort when I realize just how stupid that question is.